Pirate's Alley (29 page)

I took a deep breath and chose my words carefully. “The point is, it needs to be Eugenie’s choice. I will absolutely tell her your feelings about it, and why you strongly believe that ending the pregnancy is the best solution. I’ll tell her you believe this baby has the potential to cause a lot of strife in the prete world and that it might endanger both her and the baby. But I can’t use my magic to take the decision away from her. I won’t. It’s wrong.”

Zrakovi didn’t respond, just leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and frowned.

Plus, it wasn’t just Eugenie involved. “I have my issues with Quince Randolph,” I said, my voice softer. “You know our bond was a business deal and not a marriage. But this is his child; he can already tell it’s a boy. Preemptive strikes are all well and good, but not when it’s a strike against a threat that might not even exist. Sure, this baby might cause chaos. But he also could help broker peace.”

Zrakovi steepled his fingers in front of his face and stared at the floor a long time. When he looked back up at me, I realized he’d been shielding a lot better than I’d thought. He was still furious.

Well, screw him. I was right, damn it.

“Let me clarify.” His voice was cold. Two days as interim First Elder and his political animal had taken over. “Did you understand my direct orders to go to Eugenie and talk to her, and to perform the procedure yourself if she would not agree?”

“Yes, you made that perfectly clear.”

“Was Alex Warin under the impression that you were going to follow my orders?”

He was going to try to implicate Alex in this, but that wasn’t happening. “I lied to him. I told him what he wanted to hear and then I went to find a solution I thought was fair. When I left his house, he thought I was going to Eugenie’s.”

“Did you talk to her at all?”

“No I did not.” I paused, taking a second to tamp down my own rising anger. “I was on my way to Eugenie’s house when it occurred to me that Rand knew the political landscape better than I. I thought he might have a way to neutralize any threat his child might pose.” I didn’t admit to selling Zrakovi straight down the Mississippi.

“I see. And do you still stand by your testimony regarding Jean Lafitte’s involvement in the burning of Etienne Boulard’s club—or his lack of involvement?”

On that matter, I’d developed clarity. Selling Jean out would hurt a lot of people and accomplish nothing. No one had been hurt, and telling Zrakovi that Christof was hanging out with Jean and manipulating the weather to torture the elves? That would just make the future First Elder more paranoid.

“Yes, I stand by my testimony completely. I apologize for not revealing Christof’s presence but didn’t feel it had any bearing on the matter.”

Zrakovi speared me with a hard look. “You’re a talented wizard, DJ, and your elven magic makes you an extremely valuable asset to our people in these troubled times.” He leaned forward and smacked his hand on the table, his flat palm cracking against the wood like a gunshot and making me jump. “But don’t
ever
think you’re untouchable. Don’t ever make me think you’d turn your skills against me or the wizarding council. Don’t disobey me again. I’d hate to see you follow the path of your father.”

I looked down at my hands. Hands that mixed potions, wielded a staff of fire, and held on to things too tightly out of a deep-seated fear that I’d lose yet another person I cared about.

It always came back to Gerry, didn’t it? Gerry had followed his beliefs, betrayed his kind, and paid with his life.

Yet the path Gerry followed had been a selfish one, carved out of a desire for power. I’d sworn when he died that I’d never go down the road he’d trodden.

I’d been na
ï
ve.

In the end, I had to do what I believed was right, even if it meant letting go of old promises. Maybe even letting go of people I loved. But it would not be out of selfishness, and it would not be for power.

I looked back up at Zrakovi and said the only thing I could.

“Do what you think is best, sir. But I am not my father.”

I was, however, my father’s daughter.

“Go home, Drusilla Jaco. But watch your step.”

I pushed my chair back and stood. God, I was so tired. The floor even felt shaky, and I staggered a little as I edged my way around the table toward the exit.

“What was that?” Zrakovi stood up, looking around the room.

A muffled boom sounded from the hallway, and I ran toward the door.

I’d just grasped the knob when the ceiling came down and blackness descended.

CHAPTER
24

I came to consciousness in a pitch-black world of choking, chalky dust. The taste and smell of old, dislodged plaster was one I’d come to associate with those horrible months after Hurricane Katrina, when New Orleans had become one massive, sweltering site of both destruction and construction.

Coughing, I rolled to my knees and cracked my head against something solid. Damn it, where was Charlie? I’d pulled the cross-body strap of my messenger bag over my head before the ceiling came down, so it had to be nearby. I felt along my chest for the strap and followed it to the bag, but no elven staff stuck out the top.

I focused on the staff, calling it to me using an elven phrase Rand had taught me:
Dewch i mi, Mahout
. Instantly, a spark of red fire shot out near my left foot. I reached back and felt along the debris where the light had been, and when my fingers brushed against the polished wood, it heated to a soft glow.

Now I could see that I was in a cave with walls formed of plaster and broken lathing and wire.

“Elder Zrakovi? Can you hear me?”

It took a few seconds, but finally he answered with a muffled “I’m a few feet to your left, I think. I’m all right. Are you hurt?”

I did a mental body check. “I don’t think so.” At least not beyond the throbbing shoulder and ribs that seemed a constant these days. And maybe a new lump on my head.

“I’ll try to make my way to you,” I said, holding Charlie up to see how to best dig my way out. I needed another source of light, preferably one that wouldn’t set the room on fire.

Wedging Charlie between two boards with the glowing end closest to me, I felt inside my bag for the smooth wooden surface of my portable magic kit. Pulling it out, I held it closer to Charlie’s glow and picked out a small packet of crushed bioluminescent mushrooms. I tapped a small amount into a plastic container, added an ounce or two of holy water, and used my finger to stir it and also shoot a bit of my native magic into it. The phosphorescent green glow sprang up instantly, so bright that I had to blink a few times so my pupils would adjust.

“What the hell is that?” Zrakovi sounded closer than before, and debris fell and shifted somewhere to my left.

“I made a light so we could find our way out.” I stuffed Charlie back in my bag and held the container of light above my head. There was a beam just above me—that’s what I’d cracked my head on—but open space on either side of it.

I began pushing debris out of the way in front of the beam, careful to stay clear so it wouldn’t hit me if it shifted again. By the time I’d cleared out a space big enough to crawl through, Zrakovi had made his way to me and peered in the opening. “How did you make the light—is it elven?”

“No, just good old potion magic.” If not for his voice, I might not have recognized him. He was covered head to toe in white dust that glowed a little in my phosphorescent light. He held out a milky hand to help me crawl clear of my rubble cave. “I keep a portable magic kit with me most of the time.”

Crap like this happened often enough that I needed it, sadly.

“Enterprising.” Zrakovi stared at the light a moment, then around the room. “Let’s see if we can get the door open to the hallway and find our way out of here.”

I did a quick rundown of who might be left in the building.

“Alex?” I stilled, straining my ears for a response, but crackling wires and shifting rubble was all I heard. He’d probably been gone long enough to transport out before the explosions, or whatever they were. But my elf probably hadn’t.

Rand!
I felt a mental stirring through the pain that stabbed through my temples, but no answer.
Rand—are you okay? Are you still in the building?

His answer was faint and sluggish.
I’m stuck near the transport. I need help getting free.

We’re on our way. Have you seen Alex?

He left before the explosion.

I hoped he was right. “Rand is stuck between here and the transport; he needs help getting clear.” I held the light nearer the door, from which Zrakovi was methodically clearing rubble. “That’s too slow. Stand back.”

He gave me a sharp look, probably not liking my pushy attitude, but moved to the side. I pulled Charlie from my bag and pointed the staff at the door. I couldn’t shoot it full force or I’d start a fire, so I fed the tiniest trickle of magic into it I could, and willed it to singe rather than flame.

The end glowed like the tip of a lit cigarette, and I touched it to the door, moving it in widening circles until there was a big, round scorched hole in the middle. Then I punched my fist through it. It wasn’t pretty, but it was big enough to climb through.

Or it would have been for anyone not wearing a freaking elven hippie dress.

“Damn it.” I used the staff to burn a hole in the dress about mid-thigh and ripped off the bottom. Once my legs were freed, I stepped through the hole in the door and was glad to see the hallway beyond wasn’t nearly as wrecked as the meeting room.

I looked back to find Zrakovi examining the hole in the door and stepping cautiously through it. “Enterprising,” he said again.

Yeah, well, some of us were working wizards whose skills hadn’t rusted from too much political nonsense. Zrakovi was Green Congress, and had to be a strong wizard to have made Elder. Or maybe not. Maybe one only had to be ambitious and politically savvy.

The ceiling hadn’t collapsed in the part of the U-shaped hallway leading to the elevator, but the walls had lost their plaster and part of their lathing. The footing was tricky, and we moved slowly over land mines of nails poking out of wooden strips and enough white dust that it was hard to tell the floor from an uneven invitation to a sprained ankle or pierced foot.

Rand, where are you?

About six feet ahead of you to the left, I think. I’m trapped.

With Zrakovi crunching behind me, I held the light up and began searching for my elf. I finally spotted him against the wall with some kind of support beam over his legs. It had to be heavy. Elves had a brutish, preternatural physical strength. I’d seen Rand pick up a sofa without straining.

“You can’t kick it off?”

“Sure I can. I just wanted to see you try to lift it.”

“No point in being a smartass.” I settled the light onto a pile of rubble and studied the beam. Wooden, solid, thick. “Did you see what happened?”

“I’m not sure. Bombs, maybe. The first blast was back where you were; the second was between here and the transport. I saw Jake Warin just before the second blast.”

A chill stole across my shoulder blades. Why was Jake still here?

I turned to my silent accomplice. “Elder Zrakovi, could you dig through some of that blockage while I try to free Rand? Jake Warin might be over there.”

He didn’t respond, but walked toward the cave-in a few yards in front of us. I didn’t think Zrakovi appreciated me barking orders at him, but he’d proven himself fairly useless so far. Not that I’d be sharing that opinion.

I saw somebody else, Dru.

Who?
Obviously somebody Rand didn’t want to identify in front of Zrakovi.

Garrett Melnick. He was fighting with your loup-garou friend.

Another chill stole across my scalp. The thought of Jake with that bloodsucking freak made me ill, but if Jean had taught me anything, it was that Jake could take care of himself.

I think Melnick was trying to take out Zrakovi, and maybe you and probably me. There’s not much he can do to Lafitte.

Wait. That didn’t make sense.
How could Melnick be here? It’s daylight.

“What in thunder’s name are you two doing?” Zrakovi abandoned his excavation job and stepped up beside me. “Are you so besotted that you can’t take your eyes off each other? We need to get out of here.”

Zrakovi didn’t know Rand and I could communicate telepathically, and that was for the best, even if it meant he thought there was besottitude at work. “I’m trying to figure out the best way to move that beam,” I said.

Zrakovi leaned over and grasped the beam, but couldn’t budge it. “We will have to go for help.”

“No, no. I can find something.” I squatted down and pulled my portable kit out again. “Rand, is there some elven thing that can mimic telekinesis?”

He frowned, his facial movement cracking off a marble-size chunk of plaster from his forehead and sending it tumbling down his cheek. “The air and earth elves can do it, but not fire elves.”

I studied the neatly labeled vials in my kit, then the pocket containing three recycled mint tins filled with different gemstone chips.
Aha
.

Pulling out the tin marked
BLUE
, I scanned the blue and blue-violet stones. Maybe a sapphire, but … I picked up the small blue-green mineral chip called spinel. Its element was fire. I dropped it into an empty vial and poured holy water over it, then touched the edge of Charlie to the liquid. Might as well infuse it with the magic of the fire elves rather than that of a wizard.

Because no way would it strengthen me enough to lift that beam, or even Zrakovi. Rand was already super-strong, however. With him, it might work.

Once the mixture had boiled, then cooled off a little, I crawled over the rubble and held it out. “Drink this. Don’t swallow the stone, but just hold it in your mouth. Wait a few seconds and then try your hardest to push off that beam. I don’t have much of the mixture because the stone chip is so small, so it won’t last long.”